The Other
by CJ - Lady of Gryffindor
Summary: April died and Dominic is in deep mourning - and he's not the only one. He goes out of his way to avoid her husband when he visits her grave, but ... well, accidents happen. NOT AS SLASH FIC! (This is how I thought the series would actually end. Unfortunately the proved me wrong by killing Leo. :( )


The Other

As he walked he realized that the leaves were falling earlier this year. Dying leaves, gravestones – death was all around him, surrounding him, smothering him. Six months later, he still felt like he had the day they lost her. Gut wrenched, heart shattered, soul obliterated. Yes, there was death all around him … he felt dead too.

She died in early April; it seemed a cruel joke, a black comedy that wasn't at all funny. That she should be taken away during the month that named her life; it was another shred to a heart that had already been perforated beyond repair. And yet, she had died as she lived, a smile on her face, a joke on her lips. Her perfect blend of sarcasm and tack sharp wit, telling her mother not to bury her in that gosh awful yellow dress that she had bought her for her twenty-second birthday. A threat to come back and haunt her if she did, then closed eyes, grin gone … and then silence. Outside the windows, her family, in the stethoscope that her Uncle George held to her chest.

Silence.

He came every month and he wasn't the only one, but he was careful to be sure that their visits to her grave never intertwined, even if it meant hiding in the trees until the other was gone. Normally he would never have hidden, he wasn't a coward. It was a gesture of respect; the Other was her husband, it as his right to be here – he was just a man who loved her.

He rounded the huge tree that spread its limbs over her grave, quickly ducking back behind when he saw that he wasn't alone. The Other was lying on his side next to the grave, his face pressed into the ground. From his hiding place he could hear the soft sobs, the declaration that he loved her, that he would always be madly in love with her.

It went against his nature to watch another suffer so without offering at least an attempt at comfort, but the Other had been his adversary … no, his nemesis. While she was alive they actively hated each other and they only put it aside during her final days, giving her the comfort of having both at her side. That time was past now; he didn't how he felt about the Other now, much less how the Other felt about him. It was best that he turn away, go back to his car and wait for the sound of his leaving to venture forth. He sighed and turned away from the tree, clutching the bouquet of Daisy's tightly in his hand until the Others voice stopped him.

"I knew it was you." The Others voice was full of emotion, though he worked hard not to betray his desire to hide it.

He turned back in time to see the Other push himself up into a sitting position, wiping at his face with his sleeve.

"You don't have to leave, I know you come here often."

Slowly, cautiously, he walked closer to the grave, the headstone nearly invisible under the sea of white and pink roses, carnations and orchids. In the middle of them sat two bouquets, one of white calla lilies – an offering from the Others parents, and a bouquet of Tiger Lilies, from the Other.

"You knew?"

The Other pushed up from the ground, wiping away the tears, but nothing could erase the red, swollen eyes or the tracks on his face through the bit of dirt he had picked up from the ground.

He nodded, glancing over at the bouquet of flowers.

"Her family brings the roses, my family the calla lilies, Danny of course brings the carnations."

He smiled a little, it was true – Danny was a carnation kind of guy.

"Beth and Josh brought the orchids." He contributed

"And dimples brings the daisies."

He bristled a little at the not so subtle jibe, but he wouldn't get angry. Not in her resting place.

"I'm sorry." The Other said softly. "I didn't mean to … I mean, it's just habit, calling you that.

"There's no point to it anymore, is there."

It was a rhetorical question.

"Was there ever?"

"We thought so."

"She was worth fighting for, so I don't regret it." The Other sighed deeply, a sigh that came from his feet "I never will."

He thought for a moment. Did he regret it? He was sorry that she was upset by it, that it made life harder for her but …

"I don't regret it either." He sighed "I'll tell you what I do regret though." He glared at the Other, his eyes screaming at him to turn and look at him, to face him like a man "What I regret is that I didn't try harder to make her change her mind. If I had pushed harder … "

"Don't you think I tried? That her family and Uncle didn't? Dr. Hamburg argued with her for days." The Other shot him a look, not hostility, more like frustration. "No one could make April Carver go against what she wanted, not once she set her mind on it."

"But to decide to just give up, to not even try?"

The Other looked at him, eyes flashing angrily for a moment, then he turned back to the grave and his body relaxed again as understanding came. Dimples had never had cancer, had never been told he was terminal. How could he possibly understand?

"You see it as giving up because you've never had to face it yourself. People like April and I, who have… it is acceptance. Choosing to spend the rest of our lives living, rather than dying while trying to live. Once you let go and accept the truth, its freedom, it's peace."

"You can say that because you're in remission. If it were you …"

He bit back his words. The other had been there, he was a fool to say what he had, to even think it. Then he realized, the Other wasn't referring to himself in past tense.

"You… I mean, you haven't…. You aren't …"

"Yes Dimples," He looked over and smirked. "Little Leo has come back to play."

The Other smiled bitterly, Dimples probably would have been thrilled by the news a year ago. Now he looked concerned, stuttering his sentences. Fake compassion he didn't need. But as he looked closer, he wondered if it was fake at all.

"Oh man … I am so… so…" Maybe it was having lost April, or knowing how April had loved him, but he found the news heartbreaking. Yes, he had once hated him, but never would he have wished this on him. Never.

"Leo, I'm sorry."

The Other looked away, nodding a little. He was surprised at the compassion in Dimples – he had to stop calling him that –In Dominic's eyes.

"I found out this morning. Since then I have been sitting here, trying to figure out how to tell my parents, and Sara and Brenna and Beth."

He thought for a moment, then said what he knew needed to said, that he wished someone had told April.

"Just tell them. Take it from the guy who found out April was sick by reading about it in the Post. It will be, well, not easier, but better, to hear it from you."

The Other nodded, then turned away from the grave. "Well, if I am going to do it, I'm at least going to fortify myself a little." He looked at his watch "And the reaper is just in time for happy hour."

He was hit by another impulse, this one he wouldn't deny.

"I could use a beer," He turned to follow "Mind if I come with?"

The other shrugged as he glanced back. "Free country." Then he stopped to let him catch up. "Are we becoming friends now?"

"Hell, I don't know. Maybe."

"Wow, me and Dimples, friends." He smirked "Isn't that like the tenth sign of the apocalypse?"

"It will be if you keep calling me Dimples."

"I do have cancer you know, wouldn't been nice to hit a guy with cancer." The other laughed and pulled the keys out of his pocket, then slid them into the ignition on his bike.

"Playing the C card on me? Really? "His smile was genuine, the first real smile he had ever given the Other. "Just for that, you're buying the wings."

The other grinned and swung his leg over the side of the motorcycle. April had loved riding on it, he had even been teaching her to drive it. As he kicked it into life he looked over at Dominic and grinned.

"You got it, Dimples."

He watched while the other disappeared in a cloud of dust, then smiled to himself while he unlocked his car door. As he settled behind the wheel he marveled at the new feeling of not hating Leo Hendrie.

It felt pretty good.


End file.
